On the art of knowing if it's right
How do we know this is 'our person' ‒ when to stick, not twist? And how much of it is fate, and how much practicality?
As we cruise towards 2024, my attitude to social media is increasingly that it’s a huge time-suck that I want to extricate myself from ‒ but now and again it does throw up something heart-warming or thought-provoking. One little Instagram regular that I enjoy is the account Meet Cutes, where the creator wanders the streets of New York City (and a few other cities) stopping couples to ask them for the story of how they met. It’s such a simple idea, but it’s really arresting: you see a huge spectrum of dynamics, personality types, styles of expression. They span all ages, backgrounds and sexualities. The folks in the comments have a lot of opinions.
I never fail to be fascinated by the couple who met, split up and then got back together after a drunk text; the nerdy friends from high school who reconnected after the woman “cried about him in therapy”; the older couple who met in an assisted living facility and had their first date in the communal gardens. There are a million ways to fall in love, it seems, and a million combinations of personality and communication style that just somehow work.
The men in the straight couples often get a bit of flak for their answer to the question: “5/10/25 years in, what’s your favourite thing about her?” (They usually reach for the cop-out “Everything” ‒ bleh ‒ or something that amounts to “she looks after me” or “she’s given up a lot for me”. The women’s answers usually come after a pause, selecting a more precise and heart-lifting observation about that man’s unique qualities.)
Anyway, flicking through bite-sized content about who we end up with and why, I was struck by the concept how humans know a relationship is right for us. And do we know? Or do we just decide to commit, or blink and it’s suddenly been several years, thus making it right? I asked a few friends for their thoughts on when or how they knew ‒ you’ll read their pearls of wisdom in the pull quotes throughout this post.
“The big thing for me was his reaction to unusual family situations ‒ focusing on what I needed, even though the situation was far removed from his experiences of what families are and do.
“Now, it’s that we can make decisions together, taking each other’s preferences into account without having to explain them.
“…and also knowing that we're probably judging the same people in the same way” - Sarah*
I’ve got kind of a split personality on this one. On the one hand, I did spend my first date with G sitting there thinking “Yep, this one please, I like this one, I could definitely marry this guy, yep, more of this please” on a crazed loop. That felt pretty instant, and it never really went away. But on the other hand, I also believe we choose to stay in a relationship every single day, with the decisions we make about how to express ourselves, how to react to something that annoys us, how to support your partner and how you react to the world outside your relationship.
(And on a third, mutant hand, I always relate hard to Sally Albright when she says this:)
So in a way, I agree: when you know, you know. But in another sense, you also need to be wise and experienced and self-aware enough TO know. To know what’s good for you, what a relationship dynamic may look like in 10 years, and to weigh up any not-ideal stuff against the long-term rewards of a certain person.
My kneejerk advice to a younger person who wants to know if they should stick or twist would be: in general, do they make you a calmer, more confident person ‒ not a more insecure, neurotic one? That’s a huge part of it for me (see attachment styles a few posts back) ‒ but it may not be for you. Maybe the ingredients we need in A Person That Will Last are individual to us all.
“The first time I realised was after about a month. I had a traumatic experience at work and I was a mess. He quietly supported me all weekend in a gentle and easy way, almost without me realising. It felt intuitive.
“Overall I realised after several months that he was special when I felt so at ease with myself, like that missing jigsaw piece was finally found” - Tim*
Sometimes, it feels as simple as having some opposite traits to counterbalance your personality and approaches to things: for example, most of the solid relationships I know have a generous, big-spending type with a YOLO approach to their credit card ‒ and one person who reminds them gently that a pension will be nice in a few decades. They usually have a social butterfly and a more homebody type, ensuring a good mix of fun and recharging. Many of my friends have a combination of a more emotional, easily fired up character and a more steady, calmer anchor figure.
I don’t know if I believe in The One. I think you get a few potential Ones thrown your way in a lifetime, and how happy you end up being is equal parts you picking the most compatible one for you ‒ and you both choosing to stay grateful and self-aware, and keep things fresh years into that relationship. I remember one friend telling me after the worst of the pandemic: “I know we’re supposed to say that we hated being stuck at home, but it just made me think: I married exactly the right person.” There was no trace of smugness to that thought, just pure contentment. As a single person at that time, that struck me: that sureness was exactly what I craved.
“In Gilmore Girls ‒ A Year in the Life, the character Rory (now grown up) tells her first love, Dean, ‘You taught me what safe feels like’.
“That’s what my husband has always made me feel. He has lot of other great qualities ‒ he’s funny, clever and calm ‒ but above all I know that he would never, ever deliberately hurt me, which I don’t think I could say for a lot of the men I dated in my 20s.” - Sasha*
Here are a few clues that made me think My One was going to be The One:
*He asked as many questions about me on our dates as I asked about him. Simple, you say? Gold dust, as we girls who have done a lot of dating know.
*He was straightforward in messaging and making plans. From day dot, the feeling was: I like you and I want to know more.
*We had/have so few friction points when it comes to arguments and irritations. For the most part, we like each other’s conduct and our little quirks and idiosyncrasies don’t happen to piss each other off. That’s just good luck, I reckon.
*I fancy him just as much lounging around in joggers and eating pizza as I do in a swanky bar with an old fashioned. I still crave a mix of those things, but I get the same little spark in both scenarios.
*He’s exactly the same with his friends and family as he is with me and my people. Such an underrated quality ‒ knowing who you are, being consistent and comfortable in your own skin.
*My family love him, and I knew they would long before they met him. He’s just good people, and you can’t fake that. But seeing them all together, he just… fits.
“I never realised before this relationship that previous ones have made me feel a bit needy ‒ just a low key sense they think you need too much affirmation or physical contact. With my current partner, he just has a never-ending stream of love for me, both in verbal affirmations and being cuddly or holding my hand.
“Past partners would come to family occasions or visits with me but sometimes with a bit of reluctance, which I then resented. My partner jumps at the chance to go round to my parents. He recently popped over to help my Dad with something and stayed for dinner with them. It’s lovely to have a guy who fits in so effortlessly with my favourite people and wants to see them as much as I do” - Anna*
What are the little green flags you look for in a potential partner? Or how did you know you had struck gold? Leave a comment if you fancy it.